Gordon's Repertoire
by queenb48
Summary: Gordon finds a song for everything, even for grumpy little Alan. Enjoy!


_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the boys or songs!_

_(Just a little random piece that popped out of my mind! I thought after hearing the Beach Boys _song _Fun Fun Fun_ that a certain lyric seemed to match that of the Tracy's machines! So I thought, how can I collaborate these two together? Read on and you'll see what I mean! Enjoy! - Beth)

**Gordon's Repertoire**

The hallway to TB2's silo was brightly coloured with festive decorations, glowing merrily and sparked happiness into the usually dull and simple walk way. Hanging from the cream walls, tinsel as long as the craft itself twinkled just as Tin-Tin's eyes did, and was subtly matched with a range of multi-coloured lights that blinked joyfully, circling the many pieces of art that hung on the walls, all of which Virgil had painted over the years. Some of them where of natural forms, other's of family portraits. They all varied in person and age, and all embraced the true meaning of love and family, and bought a smile to the viewers face as emotions and memories would flood in.

They didn't however change the one's mood who had appeared from behind the sliding door to the green ship's hanger. The dirty-looking blonde strode away from the now closing door in great frustration and speedily walked further and further away. He had been wearing overalls, but the top half now hung loosely around his waist whilst his hands scrubbed at one another, trying to remove the sticky oil that caked his palms and fingertips.

_I hate servicing those god damn machines..._

As the young Tracy walked into the lounge, he was greeted with a huge display of more Christmas festive. The tall Christmas tree claimed focus point of the room and all the Christmas cards, sent from relatives and friends engulfed the walls. The blond approached his father who sat behind his desk, as per usual doing work and sipping at a newly brewed coffee,

"Afternoon son, how'd 2's overhaul go?"

"Fine, I guess..."

Alan mumbled the last part not wanting his father to hear and jogged over toward the stairs when Jeff called after him,

"Alan? Can you come back here a second please?"

Sighing heavily Alan turned on his heels and reluctantly walked to the desk. His whole body was protesting nearly every movement he made and panged as he reacted to the dull throbbing sensation with every step he took. He desperately wanted to sit down, but knew he would be scolded for doing so in his filthy state. Instead he plastered a false smile to his face and stopped a few feet away from his father's side,

"Is everything alright son?"

"Why do you ask Dad? I'm just peachy" Alan replied in a sarcastic tone.

Jeff eyed his youngest precariously and placed the pen he was holding into the pen pot. He knew Alan wasn't in the best of moods (no change there!) and wanted to deal with it before any of his famous mood swings kicked in.

"What's wrong son?"

"Oh nothing father!" Alan spoke genuinely, "It's just a bit frustrating servicing a 'bird other than your own. I mean, it's just annoying having to keep looking back and forth at the manual, whilst being barked at by Scott. Give me Gordon and one of his pranks any day! Dealing with Scott when it comes to these sorts of things is just torture in itself!""

Jeff smiled slightly and sat back in his chair feeling relieved it wasn't anything too serious,

"Im sorry I put you up to it son, but if Virgil wasn't ill I'm sure he would have done it"

Alan nodded in agreement. The only reason he was in Virgil's shoes was because the pilot himself had fallen fairly ill with a nasty bug that meant keeping food down was a impossibility and that moving further than his bedroom door sent his head into turmoil and was a definite no-no. Under the careful watch of Jeff's mother Ruth, he wouldn't be going any to begin with.

Alan sighed once more as he saw Scott approached. He too was covered in oil and grease and wore his overall half take off, around his waist tied in place with the sleeves. He walked in whistling tiredly and nodded at Jeff,

"2's done father, took nearly 3 days but she's ready to go again"

In truth it wouldn't have taken them 3 days if Alan hadn't remained so stubborn over the whole idea of servicing 2. Hell, he could deal with 1, 3 and 5 and in some areas even 4. But when it came to overhauling 2, he wished he wasn't anywhere to be seen. The whole machine was far too complex for his still-developing mind and the technology and mechanics were far ahead of his time. If Brains hadn't have headed for the main land for new years eve to visit some science convention and no doubt celebrate the new year with his nerdy-no-it-all friends, as Gordon put it, he would have done it in place of Alan, in place of Virgil.

Through the past days, it took every bit of will power Scott had not to throw Alan off the scissor lift. Alan moaned about everything and anything and ate at Scott's self steam. Thankfully to Scott's benefit he had the power to threaten Alan if he didn't do as he was told. So Scott had simple joked and threaten the relationship between his youngest brother and his beloved space rocket.

Alan thought back over the past couple of hours and remembered that specific threat as though he had read Scott's mind,

"Dad, would you really take my 'bird away from me if I didn't do as I was told?"

In that split second both Jeff and Scott could see 5 year old Alan standing in front of them again. He pouted slightly and it wasn't until Jeff looked to Scott that he was expecting a proper answer,

"Ermm, I guess. But it would depend on the seriousness of your actions. Why do you ask?" Jeff's enlightened tone turned to a more serious one "What have you done?"

Alan looked to the floor and then to Scott,

"He said if I didn't concentrate and work properly you wouldn't allow me to fly Thunderbird 3"

Jeff chuckled lightly and nodded toward his eldest,

"Well I do agree that professionalism has to be taken toward the safety and operational purposes of serving any craft and must be done with concentration as it could be a risk. But I've never seen a reason as to why that would compromise your piloting skills and why that would result in me stopping you flying 3"

Jeff sipped his coffee whilst Scott simply gave up. Alan's head jolted to the door as he saw his red-head brother stroll in with something edible in one hand and spinning what looked to be a screwdriver in the other. Gordon too was wearing overalls but he had been making technical adjustments to Thunderbird 4; in other words he had been tinkering with the computers, they were in need for some updating.

"What's this about stopping Allie from flying 3?"

Scott slapped his forehead and just wondered off toward his room without a word. The only reason he ever said it was to get Alan to do some goddamn work, and even then he didn't actually mean it. Once he was out of ear shot, Alan faced Gordon and explained the story,

"Scott threatened to me that he would ask, or rather make dad stop me from ever flying 3 if I didn't listen to his instructions on how to alter 2's silencing equipment"

Gordon took a bite out of his what was now clearly a sandwich and looked at Alan with one eyebrow raised,

"Really? And you bought that?"

"Course! 3 means everything to me, it's my baby" Alan said proudly

Gordon smiled and after placing the screwdriver in a pocket, he pointed both his pointer fingers at Alan and started humming until he had finished his mouthful,

"-And she'll have fun fun fun, till her daddy takes the T-Bird away!"

Alan huffed and stormed off in the same direction Scott had, which only made Jeff laugh as he watched his clown of a son dancing on one spot as he continued to eat his food; and sing,

"And with the radio blastin' goes  
>Cruisin' just as fast as she can, now<br>And she'll have fun, fun, fun  
>'Til her daddy takes the T-bird away!"<p>

Jeff clapped in amusement at Gordon who bowed whilst enveloping the rest of the 'snack' into his mouth. He swallowed quickly and thanked his father's gesture,

"Thank you! Thank you! Thought it rather much suited the subject don't ya think?"

Jeff laughed aloud and praised his sons theatrical performance before standing and wondering over to his second youngest,

"You know Gordon that song was sung about a car. Not a Thunderbird"

"No? Well that ruins it"

"Well considering the song was written by the, ermm, The Beach Boys I think, over a hundred years ago it doesn't make sense that they wrote it for this purpose in the future, no one would think as to creating the Thunderbirds in the 60's! Technology was practically still black and white then"

"You never know! There were some geniuses back in the 60's Dad"

"There isn't a song for everything son, and I'm not familiar with one to do with International Rescue"

"Yeah there is! A song for everything I mean, Gordo's a fish right? There's a song for that"

Scott voice had trailed from across the other side of the room. He had returned from his room and was cleanly dressed and fresh and didn't look as though he had spent his time playing with gauges, fuses, pipelines, hydraulics... The list went on. He strolled over to the copper-head and clapped him on the shoulder,

"Besides I heard the song you so kindly bestowed on Alan, don't make fun of him, he's only little"

"Little my-"

Jeff eyed Gordon warningly before returning to his desk,

"Gordo what was that song you use to sing? It was about a fish... Oh yes! Your I'm-so-drunk-I'll-make-a-utter-fool-of-myself song"

Gordon instantly knew the very one,

"Don't be daft! I don't need to be out of my head to sing that one! One of my favs!"

Gordon again started dancing on the spot and started singing at the top of his voice,

"I'm a little yellow fish in the deep blue sea!

Will somebody help me?

I'm a little yellow fish in the deep blue sea!

Will somebody save me?"

Jeff once again chuckled and Scott winched at how badly out of tune Gordon had sung the song,

"God I'm gunna need someone to save _me_ if that's your best singing voice! Better when you're drunk"

Gordon smirked and looked to Scott and once again started singing. He remembered the screw driver and in a slick hand movement, spun the object between his fingers before improvising its use as a microphone,

"When I say "I give up" it just means,  
>I am going to try again she loves me,<br>and i love everyone, I was kissin' her,  
>But she was wishing' it was,<br>Him she loves me and I love everyone!"

"You're not gunna shut up are you?"

"They told her, about you and me,  
>She's mad now<br>But she'll get over it!  
>Scott's a dork, whoa whoa!<br>Scott's a dork, whoa whoa!  
>dork dork dork dork dork dork dork dork dork-"<p>

"-FATHER!"

* * *

><p>Thankyou for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as i did writting it and finding songs to match the story!<p>

Here are the songs I used and their performer -

Beach boys – fun fun fun

Little Trees – Help! I'm a fish

REEL BIG FISH – Scott's a Dork


End file.
